


beautiful (like the flowers in your hair)

by doldrums



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Punk!Louis, but he does anyways, flowercrown!harry, harry is painfully innocent, harry owns a flower shop, louis doesn't like people, louis doesn't really want to fall in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 12:26:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doldrums/pseuds/doldrums
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis isn't like Harry and Harry isn't like Louis but somehow together they're a little beautiful. </p><p>In other words, a punk!louis and flowercrown!harry au.</p>
            </blockquote>





	beautiful (like the flowers in your hair)

Louis has bad luck. His incredibly uncooperative 90’s Geo Metro has just broken down and now it’s raining and he’s a little cold. He regrets not taking a jacket, instead he wears a swoop tank showing off his ink stained skin, and now the rain’s splattering down in small drops onto his bare skin and making his fringe wet and sticking to his forehead. Louis is walking on the fucking road because sidewalk must not be essential in small towns, Louis thinks, and then he chuckles at the thought of being hit with a car or raped or something.

Then it starts to rain harder. The type of rain that almost hurts it’s coming down so heavy; splattering in huge loud drops obnoxiously to where Louis can’t even see and that really just makes this situation even better. 

He’s left his car long ago on street Oakland, about a mile away and two miles away from his house.

During walking Louis ponders on how unlucky he is. Far enough from home but not too far so he actually has to walk, and the one time he doesn’t bring one of his leather jackets to go with an outfit and he’s freezing. He also regrets bringing converse, now, puddles and the rain itself are soaking them and he never wears socks; so that’s another thing to complain about.

Now Louis is pretty positive hail is hitting the top of his head and his bare shoulders. And Louis decides he gives up. Louis will go to a store alongside of the road. He doesn’t feel like walking in rain as well as hail for any longer than he already has.

His eyeliner has probably smeared down his face by now too. Louis wears eyeliner because he can, because he wants to, because just girls wearing eyeliner is mainstream and Louis wants to not be mainstream. Louis now pictures himself with a black mess of eyeliner running down his cheeks. Whatever shop he chooses to go in, he doesn’t care which, the workers will probably think he’s a freak. Even though he already is one.

Pulling a hand up, Louis wipes his hair out of his eyes, but it just falls back again.

Choosing not to get pelted by anymore balls of hail or icy rain, Louis goes into the first shop he sees, the door chiming when he opens it. He looks up and crosses his arms; he’s surrounded by flowers. Flowers of all kinds; blue, pink, purple, green, red, orange, yellow.. Louis thinks it’s kind of disgusting. The place is too cheerful from what Louis can already tell, posters saying ‘have a nice day’ are actually pinned to the windows and the walls are pink and yellow. Louis chose the wrong store to go into. But he’s not leaving now, because it’s warm and Louis likes warm.

“We don’t usually get customers on rainy days.” A voice from the other end of the room says, and Louis jumps in surprise, his wet fringe falling back into his eyes. Resisting the urge to say “what the fuck” out loud, he decides for a more appropriate response.

“It was raining.” Louis says like it’s obvious, like he had to choose a flower shop to step into to get away from the rain.

“I know. Do you need a towel, or something? Since you’re, um, wet.” the boy asks, just about to reach into a drawer at his desk, and Louis wonders if he just keeps towels by a cash register all the time on rainy days. He seems like the type.

The guy’s got curly hair and bright green eyes, along with a tall, skinny, kind of lanky figure but that’s not even what Louis notices first. He’s got a crown of flowers, no; four of them sitting on the desk, and one on the top of his head. Louis wants to ask but somehow doesn’t want to be too rude, so of course Louis being one not to care does it anyway.

“No. And, Why do you have a crown of flowers on your head?” Louis’s eyes lower to a silver name tag pinned to the boy’s shirt, “Harry.”

“I don’t know, actually. They’re pretty flowers though, don’t you think?” Harry flashes Louis a small smile that Louis might actually classify as the most innocent thing he’s ever seen, and then he grins wider when Louis forces a little smile back.

“Oh.” Louis mumbles.

“I like your tattoos.” Harry says, eyeing Louis’s arms where his ink stained skin lies, filled with aimless tattoos he’s not even sure where, when, or why he got them.

“Thanks, um.”

“I’ve always thought tattoos wouldn’t look good on me. So I didn’t get any. And my mum says that it would just ruin my pure skin or something, so. But I like yours. I like the skulls.”

“You’ve got black stuff on your face,” Harry smiles, too genuine and nice to someone he doesn’t even know, Louis thinks. “Here.” Harry’s pulls out the towel Louis already said he didn’t need a few minutes ago, and hands it to Louis’s right hand. When Louis doesn’t do anything with it other than toss it around in his hands, Harry takes it himself, “d’you mind? If I fix it for you. Not an insult. Just, d’you mind?”

Louis shrugs, letting the boy use to towel to wipe the smeared eyeliner off his cheeks, and Louis thinks it’s a little weird that he’s offering, but Louis chooses not to say anything and instead let’s him finish. When Harry does, he pulls the towel away and sets it back down. “So you’re not coming for any flowers, no? No special girl..”

“No, uh. No.” Louis says, “My car broke down, I needed to get out of the rain. No girlfriend.”

“Me neither,” Harry laughs, but the laugh quickly fades out and his eyebrows knit into a tiny, innocent frown. “Sorry. I’m giving and asking too much information. I’m sorry if I’m bothering you. I can leave you alone. There’s cookies in the back room, too..”

“You’re not really bothering me.” Louis assures, “and thanks, but no thanks. I don’t like cookies.”

“Who doesn’t like cookies!?” Harry’s smile returns.

“I don’t like cookies.” Louis replies. “That’s who.” Harry is so friendly; Louis comprehends, a little too friendly for someone as not friendly as Louis. Louis has only got one friend, his name’s Zayn, but he’s not sure if sitting together at the bar on late Friday nights counts as friendship.

“That’s really strange.” Harry smiles again, wide and crinkly eyed, “so, what’s your name, boy-who-doesn’t-have-a-girlfriend-to-buy-flowers-for-but-goes-in-a-flower-store?” And Louis laughs at that statement, because it was a really awful attempt at a joke, and the laughs sounds strange in Louis’s own sound because Louis never laughs unless he’s really drunk and doesn’t know what’s going on around him.

“Louis.”

“Last name? Mine’s Styles, you already know my first name, name tag and all.”

“Last name Tomlinson. Your name sounds like a celebrity’s name.” Louis answers.

“I actually get that a lot, though I don’t understand why,” he contemplates, “anyways, the shop’s closing in five minutes, I can lock up and drive you home. If you want, if that’s not too creepy and all, if not I can stay here with you until the rain stops, but it probably won’t stop for hours, so.. Want me to drive you home?” Harry asks, Louis thinks it’s oddly nice that someone he doesn’t even know is generous enough to offer Louis a ride.

“Sure, thanks. I live about a mile from here, on Charlotte Lane, it’s the little white house with the hideous dark blue shutters.” Louis explains, and Harry nods his head, replacing the flower crown on his tangled in his hair to fit snug again, hanging over the fringe just about his eyes.

“Okay. I think I know where that is. This town not being that big, and all.” Harry nods again, “Let me close up and grab my books.” So Louis waits when Harry disappears in the back room, coming again with a key and a stack of what look like college books. Louis dropped out of college a year ago.

So they leave and Harry locks behind him, the bell chiming again as the door shuts. Harry walks in the rain trying his best to cover his books, and Louis trails behind wrapping his arms around himself to prevent the cold. Harry goes to a blue car on the edge of the street, he opens the passenger door for Louis and drops his books in the back, then gets in to start the car.

When the door shuts and Harry starts the car, he says, “so, tell me about yourself, Louis. If you want and all.”

“All you need to know about me is I like chocolate more than actual human beings and I have a knack for taking things that aren’t mine.” Louis says, a bit too forward but he doesn’t care.

“Taking things that aren’t yours? Hateful to human beings? We’re not much alike are we.” Harry giggles, actually giggles, “but that’s okay. Opposites attract right? Or at least they do in chemistry. I dunno..” He’s giggling again, at his own little joke that wasn’t even a joke and not all that funny, and Louis can’t help but laugh because God, this boy his so innocent. It’s like he hasn’t been exposed to the awful of the world or he only sees the good and chooses not to see the bad. Which is a lovely quality- Louis knows, and it’s also a quality Louis doesn’t have and is never going to. Louis kind of likes the way Harry’s so nice; even though he’ll never see him again after today. He doesn’t think. Probably not. Harry isn’t his type. But what is Louis’s type? Liam was his type, Niall was his type.. They’re exactly like him and nothing like Harry. Louis shouldn’t even be thinking about this. God, this is dumb. Harry’s just driving him home. Shut up, Louis.

“Me neither. I didn’t study chemistry.” Louis shrugs, thinking, he actually didn’t study anything before college. “So, tell me about you in one sentence, Harry. Like I did.”

“Erm… All you need to know about me is that I believe that life is basically the best thing that happened to me and I really like flower crowns, because they’re pretty and they show the beauty in life.” Harry says, and Louis is thinking, this guy must have been pulled out of a novel, because people this hopeful and full of life aren’t supposed to exist in the real world.

“Why is life the best thing that ever happened to you?” Louis can’t help but notice they’re pulling onto Louis’s street, the five minute drive coming to an end.

“Because I get the chance to love and get love in return. I think that might be the best feeling in the world, I just haven’t found the other half of it yet.”

“Oh. Okay.” Louis fumbles with the car door, not being able to think properly it seems. “Thank you for driving me. I would’ve been stuck out there if you didn’t so, um, yeah.”

“You don’t say thank you much do you? You’re being so hesitant about it.” Harry grins, again, “anyways, you’re welcome. It’s not that big of a deal. Drive’s home are usually really boring without someone there, so really, thank you for being my company. Most people think I’m too weird to talk to and stuff.” Harry notices Louis is waiting for him to stop talking so he can shut the car door and go to his house so he’s not getting soaked by rain, Harry’s smile fades, “oh, sorry, didn’t see you were waiting. Have a nice rest of the day, Louis! See you ‘round!” The crown of flowers falls to his eyes as he nearly jumps to wave good bye.

“You too.” Louis waves him off, walking to the front of his house.

He should probably do something about his car now.

—

Louis doesn’t know why he’s here, and he didn’t think about what the hell even made him drive here, but all he knows is he did and now he’s standing in front of a flower shop which he can now see in broad day light is called ‘Anne’s Garden’, and he’s just parked his piece of shit car (which he got fixed last week), now he’s just contemplating what made him come and if he’s actually going to walk in or not.

He decides simply “fuck it” and steps into the shop again, door chiming behind him and it slams shut. He’s acquainted with the familiar yellow and pink walls and being surrounded by flowers once more; but more importantly he sees a certain curly haired chap at the front counter. Harry looks up to say “hello, thanks for coming to Anne’s Garden!” but he shuts his mouth because Louis is standing there; tattooed and eyes lined with black just like last time.

“You’ve decided to buy flowers now?” Grinning, Harry slides over the counter, landing in front of Louis, but not too close. “Somehow I don’t think so.”

“I didn’t come to buy flowers, no. I actually don’t know why I came here.” Louis says honestly, now noticing Harry’s got a different crown on this time, pink and yellow flowers, matching the walls of the flower shop itself. Louis kind of likes the way Harry wears them; hanging over his fringe just a little but not enough to hang over his eyes, innocent and a little bit endearing. And Louis doesn’t really know what to think about that; because he doesn’t usually think these things. Never, and not with people he barely knows. It’s probably just his looks, the fucking curls and the green eyes and the innocent demeanor.

“I think maybe you want to be friends with me. Forgive me if I’m wrong, though.” Harry’s eyes shine, kind of like the sun, maybe.

“You’re not really my type of friend, Harry Styles.”

“I don’t think you have any friends, Louis Tomlinson.”

“Ouch. Harsh.”

“But true,” Harry laughs, “c’mon, give me a chance. I’m sure you’ll have an amazing rest of your life with someone as cheerful and bright as me around! You need some good happiness in your life, I think. You’re all doom and gloom.” Louis kind of laughs at that phrase, “doom and gloom.” Harry probably doesn’t even know what he’s saying. “So Louis, do you want to be friends, maybe? I think it would work out amazing, just in case you’re wondering.”

“Can you handle me? I don’t think I’m your type of friend.”

“I think I’d do a decent job.”

“I’m moody.”

“So is every other human being on the entire Earth,” Harry points out, and Louis supposes he’s right.

“I’m mean.” Louis decides this time.

“You can’t make me not want to be your friend because of your human qualities, Louis. Everyone’s a bit mean and moody, and probably a whole lot of other things too. Besides, I think you need a friend, if we’re being honest right now. You don’t have bright eyes. It’s scary. Don’t think I’m insulting you or anything, I’m just pointing out.” Harry offers Louis a smile, and Louis thinks maybe that smile shines brighter than the yellow flowers hanging over his head.

“Fine.” Louis gives in.

“Good, good! Let’s go somewhere. I’ll just go ask my mom if she can take over for now…” Harry turns his heel to the backroom. “Be right back.”

Now Louis is left alone and someone just asked him to be his friend. And that’s so utterly childish, that Louis should probably be disgusted by it, that he should probably turn around and get back in the car that caused this in the first place; and then he should drive home or get another tattoo to take his mind off of having a ‘friend’.

“I’m back. My mum’s going to watch the shop for a few hours.” Harry’s emerging from the back room again. “So. What places do you hang out?”

“I don’t hang out anywhere.” Louis decides not to add that he goes to bars on lonely Friday nights (because Harry doesn’t need to know that’s the only place Louis hangs out.)

“Okay! We can chose an alternative. How about the park?”

“That’s awfully cheerful for me.”

“The mall?” Harry suggests, “come on. You can’t turn down a visit to the mall. It will be fun! I’m taking you. We can leave your car here. Unless you want to take yours.” Harry insists, and that’s probably the most demanding thing Louis is ever going to and has heard him say.

“Uh, sure.” Louis shrugs. He figures he can go a visit to the mall. Maybe he could get himself some new converse or t-shirts or something like that.

“Okay. Come on!” Harry’s already walking out the front door, car keys in hand, so once again Louis follows him to his car, and he wonders how could he have possibly let this happen. He knows it’s not that big of a deal; and that friends are supposed to be great things to have, but Louis just doesn’t trust people and that’s the problem. But Harry doesn’t seem like the type to mess with Louis or ditch him like Liam or Niall or any of the others did.

So now Louis is in Harry’s car and Harry’s driving again; to a mall that’s probably going to be full of pre-teen girls without their parents and the thought sounds kind of horrendous.

“Are you going to where those flowers in the mall?” Louis cocks his head in question.

“Why not?”

“Because people are going to stare at you.”

And Harry’s face twists into a frown, and he raises his hand that’s not on the steering wheel to take it off, fingers just brushing petals- but Louis stops him, because he didn’t like the look of sadness he caused. “No, no just kidding. Don’t let me burst your bubble. Keep it on.”

“Okay.” Harry mumbles aimlessly. Soon he hides his frown though, and he does a good job of it. “Want to play a game of favorites along the hour drive?”

“Sure. You first.”

“Favorite food?” Harry prompts.

“Chocolate. You?”

“Probably any type of fruit. I really like fruit! Favorite song?”

“Couldn’t possibly pick. You?”

“Actually, the same. I could never pick either. Too many! So, favorite movie?”

It continues like that the whole ride to the mall, literally the whole sixty minutes (not one moment of quiet that isn’t filled with laughs or another question), Harry asking Louis questions and Louis just saying ‘you?’ at the end of each of them. Louis laughs and Harry laughs, and it’s kind of nice because Louis doesn’t usually do these kinds of things; and surely not with people as cheerful and bright as Harry is.

Now they’re walking to the double doors of the mall, and Louis hasn’t been here in ages. He’s got Harry by his side though, and he’s prepared for the obnoxious air of the place.

By five minutes of time in the mall Harry has already been asked why he had a crown of flowers on the top of his head; Harry brushes it off with a laugh and Louis kind of admires that, because if it were him, Louis would have snapped or even hit them. But no, Harry replies with “oh, I don’t know. They’re full of life, don’t you think?” And it sounds so utterly ridiculous but so fucking innocent all at once.

So Louis thinks that maybe he just wants to completely ruin Harry; ruin the innocent demeanor and the cute little smiles and his happy go lucky attitude. He thinks everyone else might want to ruin Harry as well, because he’s so damn innocent and oblivious to all things bad it’s almost painful to watch.

“Hmmm… Any stores you like to go in, Louis?”

Louis shifts his feet as him and Harry earn another curious glance from a person passing by. He shakes his head, “no, not really.”

“We’ll find something, surely.”

Louis’s eyes go wide at the moment, and he stares forward. Harry follows his gaze, to a shaved head and a blonde haired pair; and Louis kind of wants to stab himself because of fucking course they’re here and of fucking course Louis had got to run into them, or even come in the sight of them. Again, as Louis thinks plenty of times a day, Louis had bad luck.

“Do you know them?” Harry asks.

“Uh, n-“

“Louis! Is that you?”

“Fucking hell.” Louis swears under his breath, “yeah. Um, hi.” And now Liam and Niall are walking towards him and that’s just awesome, really.

“Haven’t seen you in ages. How have you been mate?”

“That’s not any of your business.” Then Louis is shoving past Liam, making an emphasis of completely ignoring Niall. He grabs a confused Harry’s wrist and pulls him away too, despite the pounding amount of awkward and the call of ‘who’s your friend, Louis?’

“Who are they, Louis?” Harry’s expression is sewn with confusion and he looks kind of like a lost kitten.

“Irrelevant assholes. Not a big deal.” Louis notices Harry flinch when the swear word comes between his lips. “Let’s go in a shop you want to, yeah?” And Louis is still pulling Harry by his wrist, even though Harry has longer legs he’s struggling to keep up with a fast paced Louis, and no this isn’t a form of holding hands, no it isn’t and no they are not.

“Okay, yeah. Hope you’re okay. You seem kind of mad.”

“I’m okay.”

—

After that Louis may or may not have spent over two weeks of time with Harry in a span of three weeks. He most certainly did not. Of course that’s a lie because he’s actually in Harry’s shop right now, fourth week of knowing Harry. He’s sitting on top of the counter while Harry’s forms together another crown, this time purple and white flowers of some type Louis doesn’t know.

“Do you want to make one?” Harry offers.

“Sure.” Louis grabs a long stem with the tiny white flower on to, and starts to weave it together with the purple, then white again, then purple again. He’s not very good at it, because it keeps falling apart nearly every time he tries, and it’s awfully frustrating, because he has to redo it every time.

At one last attempt Louis fails again, now Louis has given up with a loud groan. “Here.” Harry’s giggling and Louis is used to that sound now. He grabs Louis’s fingers in his own and shows him the actual way to weave the stems together, “like that, see? There.”

Then Louis is done with the crown in about ten minutes, and he hands it to Harry. It’s not as good as Harry’s, but it’s an effort compared to what Louis would have done before Harry showed him. Harry mumbles a praise and places the flower over Louis’s head, a little bit big so it slides to his eyes. Louis shoves it up and hits Harry lightly, careful not to hit too hard, “I don’t want it, you tosser.”

Louis is about to take it off, but- “It looks good on you.” Harry says.

Louis doesn’t take it off.

So now they’ve got matching flower crowns, and Louis kind of wonders how that happened, but he decides not to.

—

Now it’s two months into knowing Harry and one could say Louis is a better person, maybe. He doesn’t tell people whom are in his way to ‘fuck off’ anymore, and he doesn’t give glares to strangers just for fun. Louis thinks that’s a step up from how he acted before, yes. He blames Harry obviously, the boy literally scolds Louis every time he does something the slightest bit rude, and it’s kind of cute to see, really, maybe, kind of.

“I don’t like cupcakes.” Louis sighs, letting the iced dessert fall to the tile of the back room of Anne’s Garden. Harry made Louis try a cupcake- “they’re different than cookies, Louis.” And Louis threw it on the ground because he might be mentally five in the head.

“Didn’t think you would.” Harry is already wiping the pink icing off of the floor even though it was Louis’s mess, and that makes Louis smile because, well why the fuck wouldn’t it. “I actually don’t like these either.” Harry says, smiling sheepishly at Louis. “Oh, and by the way, sorry in advance.”

“Wha-” Pink icing is in Louis’s eye and up his nose.

“Fuck, you’ve just started something you’re not going to finish.” Louis says, smearing the icing out of his eyes. He grabs another cupcake and shoves it onto Harry’s white t-shirt. Then he grabs another and makes a good point of massaging the icing into Harry’s hair, making it matted and dirty, but still shiny if that’s even possible. Then Harry’s grabbing another and shoving it down Louis’s shirt and up his arms, icing decorating the black of his tattoos.

So Louis grabbed the last one and shoved it right into Harry’s face, the same place Harry shoved a cupcake in Louis’s face, and the icing completely smears over his mouth and cheeks. “I win.” Louis declares; and then he does something completely derogatory, maybe. He licks the side of Harry’s face, leaving a stripe of where icing used to be and Harry laughed so hard Louis thinks he might actually die of the effect of it.

When Harry is sane enough to only let out a few giggles, he says, “you look cute with icing all over your face. Guess you’re not as cool and tough with pink icing on you, huh?” And Louis just rolls his eyes.

“Guess not.” Louis agrees, “but you don’t look any different. Obviously.”

Harry’s crown his in pieces on his head, little petals being the decor of icing colored hair. His cheeky are rosy red from laughing so hard and his dimples are obvious in his smile and that’s kind of just not fair, really.

“Well, I don’t know about that. We should probably wash up… Unfortunately there are no showers here but there is a hose to water the flowers out back!”

“It’s only fifty degrees though.” Louis adds.

“Think of it as an adventure.”

That doesn’t make any sense, but he just follows Harry anyways, because he kind of hates the smell of sugary icing and cake, and he really hates that it’s up his nose and on his arms. So he just comes anyways.

It’s absolutely freezing outside, and it’s even worse when the hose is turned on. The hose is spraying out icy water that is like little knives stabbing him when the water hits his skin. He shivers as he sprays it over his head and on his arms, then hands it to Harry, still shuddering over how cold he is. Wet clothes sticking to his skin and all that.

So Harry sprays it all over him and then that white t-shit sticks to his chest, outlining his muscles and Louis’s eyes are drawn to the sight while Harry sprays the pink and petals out of his hair. He knows that Harry knows Louis is watching, but Harry being the person he is isn’t going to say anything about it, and Louis is thankful for that.

“Alright. I’m g-good, are you?” Harry asks. Louis quickly shakes his head in urgency just to go back inside, because it’s so fucking cold his lips are turning a shade of purple. They go back inside, thank God, and they’re in semi-warmth again, their clothes being the only problem as of then.

“I don’t like you right now.” Louis sighs, “I am cold and wet.”

“I like you, so that’s okay.”

—

Louis has probably just realized the worst realization of his life just now.

He’s got a fucking crush on Harry. And that sucks because Louis isn’t supposed to care about anyone and he’s not supposed to have crushes. But he does care and that sucks too. Louis knows that he is a truly awful person, really. He likes to get drunk and high and he likes to treat people like shit, and that’s just complete and total opposite of Harry. And Louis doesn’t want to ruin Harry. He doesn’t want to fuck up how nice and genuine Harry is because of a silly crush. If Harry happened to like him back and they got together (unlikely) then Louis would mess him up and Harry wouldn’t be genuine and innocent anymore and that’s just not fair to Harry; to take something that precious and rare from him. Louis can’t do that. He won’t do that. He can’t let feelings get in the way of Harry’s actual personality. Louis knows if they got together, he would make Harry just as fucked up at Louis is. Innocent Harry who wears flower crowns and loves the feeling of life. He wouldn’t be like that in the aftermath of being with Louis. And Louis just can’t do something like that to someone who doesn’t deserve it. Louis cares enough not to.

Now Louis is alone on his ratty couch he got form a yard sale and he’s watching a shitty television show, and he’s got a joint between his lips.

Zayn gave him the weed last Friday. Louis had stopped with the drugs for a while after Harry said he didn’t approve. (“Drugs are just going to ruin you. And I like you, so I wouldn’t want that, so throw the joint away, yeah?”) Come to think of it Louis doesn’t know why he even listened to Harry, because he likes the feeling of being completely stoned. His thoughts are drifting away like leaves on a windy day and he finds himself thinking less and less about the problem on hand.

He takes another drag and laughs at nothing, and then another drag, and another after that. Then this joint is gone so he lights another one, and a whole lot more after that.

An hour later Louis is so high off the amount of weed he’s smoked he can’t even really think straight.

But he has to think enough to answer the door; because a knock comes and Louis can’t just ignore that. He lifts himself off the couch and grumbles when the joint slips between his fingers and falls. He pulls the door open which takes a lot of work because his head is like a balloon; and the door reveals Mr. Not supposed to think about.

“Oh, it’s you.” Louis turns back around and flops himself onto the couch again, not bothering to invite Harry in or anything.

“Louis-” Harry pauses, “is that another joint on the ground? You’re going to light you’re house on fire.” Harry then groans, seeing how many used joints are scattered on the ground, and fully recognizing the stench of smoke in the air. “How many did you smoke?”

“Ummm. Two, three, a billion and two thousand.” And then Louis is laughing, because that’s funny, like; real humor.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t,” Harry is brushing used joints off the couch to sit down next to Louis, “smoke anymore. Because drugs ruin you, remember?”

“That doesn’t mean I was going to listen.” Louis chuckles, “obviously, flower-head.”

“Okay, Louis.” Harry sighs loudly, kind of annoyed which is funny to Louis because Harry is rarely ever annoyed, really. “You’re going to pass out any second I think. I’ll stay here and make sure you don’t do anything you’ll regret tomorrow, yeah?”

“I don’t think you should be here, no.. But whatever floats your boat!”

“And why can’t I be here? I’m here all the time.”

“Well I don’t know. Maybe it’s because you’re so pretty, and all that.”

“I”m pretty.”

“-and like, the flowers magnify the pretty, so it’s just sort of like; woah. It’s all the time, too. Every day, every hour.. Gets a bit annoying.”

“Louis.”

“-so I just sort of ignore it, yeah. Oh, I’m not supposed to be saying this,” Louis laughs a little bit, because he’s so stupid, “fuck it, really. Too late now.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well I thought I was being obvious enough, Harry, God. Pay attention, you wanker.”

“You have a crush on me? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

“I don’t know.” Louis sighs loudly and dramatically throws his head into his hands, “it’s all your fucking fault too, so thanks.”

“What’s my fault?”

“You’re like, amazing. So I don’t really appreciate it. Highest mark goes to you for ruining my reputation and my sanity at the same time.” Louis reaches to grab another joint because he needs one, but Harry pulls the Ziploc bag away from Louis before he can reach it again, “hey, that wasn’t nice.”

“I think you’re too smashed to think right now. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Okay sure, Harry. I am tired, I’m going to sleep now, good day to you.”

“Lou-“

“Hold on. Hold on. Hold on. I have do to something first. Hold on, shut up.” And this isn’t really romantic at all, Louis knows, but he does it anyways, because he doesn’t care and his head is complete fluff right now, so why not? So he sort of just yanks Harry by his collar, and the crown slips and hits Louis’s hand then drops onto the floor with the pile of used smokes, and Louis just kisses him because why the fuck not.

Harry’s lips are soft and warm and they remind Louis a whole lot of Harry’s personality.

The moment doesn’t last long, though, because Harry’s pulling away with red cheeks and a look of confusion, watching Louis with bewildered eyes. Louis knows he made a mistake, despite being completely blitzed. Louis mumbles a few sorry’s under his breath that Harry doesn’t hear, and then Louis is closing his eyes and leaning back into the couch.

—

A few hours later Louis is waking up, and the second his eyes open he comes to terms with the fact that he’d confessed to having a crush on Harry, and Harry didn’t even believe him. He feels completely and utterly stupid. 

Suddenly the idea of smoking any more weed for the rest of his life seems completely horrible, because Louis was dumb enough to confess his feelings while under the influence.

Louis wants to shoot himself a few times at that point, and then he’s scolding himself in his head because he’s really just so fucking stupid, but his thoughts are already whisked away when he realizes (how Louis didn’t realize sooner, he doesn’t know) that Harry is still sitting next to him on the couch, eyes glued to the television screen and he’s picking at the crown that he’d dropped before, petals slipping between his fingers and into his lap. 

So Louis just watches him then, he watches his green eyes scan the television (Louis doubts he’s paying attention) and his ankles cross and uncross, and he watches Harry bite down on his bottom lip and his eyebrows knit together because he’s probably thinking hard. And it’s ridiculously cute, honestly, the kind of cute that isn’t fair to watch but Louis does anyway. 

Then Harry gives Louis a glance and Louis isn’t quick enough to close his eyes and pretend to be asleep. “You’re awake. Get a nice sleep?”

“Why did you stay, Harry?” That was the first question pondering Louis’s mind among many more, like “are you pissed I kissed you?” and “Do you happen to maybe have a crush on me back?”

(Louis doubts either of those things, Harry never gets mad and of course he wouldn’t have a crush on Louis, he just wouldn’t.)

“I don’t know.” 

“Harry-“

“Do you.. Do you really like me, Louis?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Yes you do. Could you please tell me? Just let me know if I’m getting my hopes up or not, you know. Just let me know, because I’ve been really curious while you were sleeping. But I didn’t want to wake you up-” 

“Fuck.” 

“W- what?” Harry’s startled by Louis bluntly swearing, eyebrows curving into a frown and it’s cute.

“I’m not supposed to like you, Harry. So fuck.” 

“No one said you’re not allowed to…” Harry looks so inexperienced and awkward and so fucking cute Louis kind of just wants to scream for a few good hours. “Maybe- maybe you should break one of your own standards and just, I don’t know, like me.” 

“Standards? Harry you’re literally a million above my standards. You’re actually way too good for me. That’s why I’m not supposed to like you.” Louis doesn’t know why he’s having a conversation like this. It’s kind of like a movie, in a way, a scene pulled out from a romance novel or something like that. Louis has never experienced something like this particular moment. It’s kind of weird. Louis wants to say something stupid and break the awkward but it doesn’t seem right, and he knows he shouldn’t. Now’s not the time for a stupid joke. 

“I just, I don’t know. Maybe it’s me who’s not supposed to like you. You’re so dark and sad and alone but something in my heart just makes me want to fix you and make you mine and happy,” Harry takes one long breath before continuing, “and I know you’re not my type because well, no offence. But you’re so mean and you don’t have a filter to hide your mean thoughts what so ever and you’re just so careless, and that’s not like me, that’s not like me at all. But. I like you.”

“I’m so uncomfortable right now,” Louis admits, “and I like you too. I get what you’re saying because I’m not supposed to like someone like you either. You’re nice and genuine and so nothing like me and you’re just innocent, Harry. I can’t.. I can’t ruin you.” 

“You wouldn’t ruin me.. No one’s ruined me yet, right?” Harry pauses, “maybe it’s fate-“

“Oh God, Harry. Don’t bring fate into this.” 

“No, just listen! Think about it. Your car broke down and it just started to rain and hail while you were walking? And out of all the shops you could have chose you went in the one I work in? Think about it. Maybe fate as a funny way of working itself out, but maybe even though we’re nothing alike we’re supposed to look past that.”

“I already looked past that. That doesn’t mean it’s fate.” 

“Louis. You’re not accepting or understanding what I’m offering-“

“Because I don’t deserve it-“

“Everyone deserves the chance to have love. And I’m giving you that chance whether you like it or not, Louis.” Harry’s smiling warmly and Louis can’t really think, “I don’t want to startle you or anything but.. Can I kiss you, Louis?”

“I don’t know.” Louis mumbles aimlessly, “yes, I mean, yeah.” 

So Harry does. Harry’s lips are still soft and pillow like and they fit perfect with Louis’s thin ones, and Harry’s thumb is resting at Louis’s jawline, and it’s all just so perfect Louis might die. The kiss itself is so sweet and gentle it surprises Louis (all of Louis’s other kisses escalated into make-outs within the first minute of starting). Harry just kisses Louis like he’s fragile; like he doesn’t want to break him. 

Then Harry pulls away, “I didn’t want to make the kiss into anything you don’t want it to.” Harry explains, “but don’t you see, Louis? We just sort of fit, I don’t know. I know it doesn’t make sense right now but it would if you gave me a chance, I think it would make a whole lot of sense later on. If you’d just let someone in your life. It’s okay..”

“I-“

“Please let me have a chance in showing you the good in life.” 

“Harry-“

“Let me.” 

“No, I can’t, I w-“

“Let me.” It’s the most urgent Harry’s ever sounded.

“Okay.” Louis can’t help it, he has to say yes, because it’s Harry, and then Louis can’t control himself again, so he presses a kiss (just a small one) to Harry’s mouth and then pulls away and blue eyes meet green again, “okay.”

—

In a span of three months time Louis lets Harry give him a chance.

And it’s weird. It’s so weird to have an actual relationship, one where Harry shows up at Louis’s house with flowers from the shop on a sunny day, one where Harry whispers sweet nothings into Louis’s ear when he’s feeling agitated, and one where Harry is so kind and gentle that he has to ask permission to hold Louis by his waist. 

It’s kind of beautiful, too. 

The first beautiful thing Louis had ever experienced, the whole relationship is soft and warm and honey-like sometimes Louis had to stop and think how the hell he got someone like Harry (an always flower-crowned Harry) to even want a waste of life like Louis. 

Harry and Louis share sweet kisses under stars and they snog in corners of the flower shop even when Harry’s working (customers come in the shop and Harry will try to push Louis by his chest away, throwing his head back in wild laughing sounds; Louis just whispers a “shh” and kisses him in a corner of yellow daisies, the one corner of the shop that’s secluded and hidden by hanging flower pots.)

Right now Louis is sitting on top of the counter where you pay in Anne’s Garden, Harry on the other side attempting to finish school work. Louis will see him smile just because of the happiness in the air and Louis will poke his dimple, causing Harry to stop doing his class work and claim he’s taking a break even though he’s taken over fifteen already.

Now they’re on another “break”. Louis is still sitting on the counter but he’s shoved Harry’s book to the floor, turned to replace where the book was and wrap himself around Harry’s waist. “I can’t work like this,” Harry giggles, and Louis smiles because why wouldn’t he? He’s kissing Harry after that, because he likes kissing Harry. And he likes snogging Harry a lot more than that, because Harry’s innocent and Louis likes to devour Harry in not-so-innocent kisses. 

Louis turns the kiss into one of those types of snogs, and he cups Harry’s face with his hands, while Harry’s rest on Louis’s thighs. “I like kissing you.” Harry mumbles against Louis’s mouth. Louis chuckles because Harry’s just so sweet, really, and he says, “I like kissing you, too.” 

The class work is long forgotten by this point, and Louis is too busy pulling Harry by his collar and wrapping his legs around Harry’s slim waist.

—

Harry is coughing and sputtering his first drink of beer on Louis' t-shirt.

"I told you that you weren't going to like it- you didn't listen to me." Louis laughs, grabbing the glass from Harry's hands and taking it into his own, drinking it without hesitating, unlike Harry (it was obviously the most adorable thing ever to Louis though). Harry's still coughing up the remains of the sour drink when Louis pulls him in for a kiss. He's basically just been choking (onto Louis' favorite shirt, but that's okay, really) but Louis just kisses him anyways. Because he wants to, and he can now.

"It's not funny," Harry pouts, puffing his lower lip out, looking kind of like a puppy, Louis thinks. 

"Kind of is, actually." 

"Excuse me for not going around and drinking it, like, all the time." Harry jokes, snuggling back into Louis' chest.

"Babe," (yeah, Louis did just say that) "do you want some water instead?" He's talking with a voice he would normally give to a six month old baby, but that's obviously the point. 

"Oh, shut up, Louis." Louis can tell Harry's trying to add venom into his tone but that's only making him sound even more adorable than before, and it's kind of not fair, because Harry is adorable without even trying and Louis has to give a lot of effort just to make his hair tame in the mornings.

"You're staring at me."

"I know."

"Why?" Harry asks, "do I have your alcohol poison stuff on my face." He's blushing. (Fucking rosy red cheeks.)

"No," Louis begins, "I just." Then he stops.

"Just what?" His smile fades into a little grin.

"You're just kind of beautiful, I guess." And he is, Louis thinks. 

"Well I think you're reeeeeaaallly beautiful, then." Harry noses into Louis' collar bone. Louis might die. 

— 

At the moment Louis has his legs swung onto Harry’s lap, bodies slotted together, and their watching a movie on Louis’s television (neither of them are actually watching, they’re just watching each other.) 

Harry’s got one loose wave dangling down the center of his forehead, his newest crown placed neatly at the top, and Louis is watching Harry pull his fringe out of his face over and over again, only making the shiny piece of hair fall right back into his eyes. 

They’re drinking tea. Louis doesn’t like tea all that much, he prefers the taste of strong coffee or preferably beer, but whatever Harry’s made (he assumes it’s Yorkshire) tastes fine. Harry’s just grabbed Louis’s mug out of his hand to take a drink. Louis throws him a fake glare, “I like that tea, give it back.” 

Harry just gives him an innocent look and a smile that shows dimples cutting divots in his skin; and takes one more sip before placing it in Louis’s hands, fingers lingering longer than they should to touch.

“Can I tell you something?” Harry starts, “I mean, it’s kind of serious and I know that’s not really your thing and all.” 

“When are you going to learn you don’t have to ask permission to do anything to me anymore,” Louis laughs, “unless you want to kill me or something. Then you should probably ask first.” 

“I’m being serious.. This has been on my mind for a long time now.. I just want to say it out loud.” After Harry speaks this time Louis doesn’t crack a joke, knowing enough that when Harry’s saying he’s serious he wants Louis to be serious too. 

“Okay. Tell me.” 

“I don’t want to scare you off.” His eyebrows furrow into a little frown. 

“It’s okay.” Louis mumbles, “I think you know I’m not going to ditch you because of something that’s on your mind.” 

“I do know that.” 

“Then tell me.” 

“Okay.” Harry’s pulling Louis up and next to him so they're facing. “I know this might sound crazy and all because I haven’t even known you for more than a year, but there’s just something about you.. I don’t know. I’m not saying you have to say it back, I just want to get if off my chest because it’s true-” Louis cuts Harry off.

“Just tell me.”

“I’m.. I’m in love with you, Louis.” 

Louis doesn’t say anything. He leaves a piano stained silence in the room, and it’s not awkward. He doesn’t say anything because he.. Louis doesn’t have an explanation for this. He doesn’t have any words to describe the amount of whatever he’s feeling. 

“I’m sorry, I knew I shouldn’t have, I just thought, maybe-” Harry notices the small tear dripping down Louis’s cheek, “you’re crying, Lou…?” 

“Nobody’s ever said that to me before. Nobody.”

“Someone should have.” He takes a breath and smiles a little, "because I think you're the most perfect human I've ever laid eyes on."

“God, this is so cheesy,” Louis is laughing through happy tears and he has no idea why the fuck he’s really crying, “I’m in love with you too.”

So, Harry just kisses him then.

Louis is finally realizing that they don’t have to be alike to love. Louis has got tattoos and he wears eyeliner for no reason at all; Harry wears flowers in his hair and works in a flower shop. But that doesn’t matter because they’re in love, and it is kind of stupid; really, because he doesn't even- Louis is pushing all of the thoughts of love being stupid out of his head because it’s not; it’s beautiful and Harry’s beautiful and they’re beautiful together.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is larryspeakslouderthanwords


End file.
